


Lights On

by WarriorBeeoftheSea



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [24]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), DEC 18 - Reflection, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Sexual Content, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorBeeoftheSea/pseuds/WarriorBeeoftheSea
Summary: Simon Snow is an easily spooked lover.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557757
Comments: 6
Kudos: 169
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Lights On

**Baz**

Simon Snow is an easily spooked lover. And I like to think I’m a patient one. I’d have to be, with how long it took us to get where we are now. 

We fuck now. We didn’t used to be able to manage it. Or any kind of intimacy, really. 

Simon told me he’s afraid of me seeing him. Of seeing himself. I try to understand what he means, but I can’t imagine ever not wanting to revel in everything that is Simon Snow. 

So now we fuck, but under covers, and with the lights off. And sometimes even then he squeezes his eyes shut. 

I don’t mind. I really don’t. But sometimes I wonder…

**Simon**

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex as much as the next bloke. I mean, really, really enjoy it. As in, think about my boyfriend and have the sudden and desperate need to drag him to bed.

For a long time I was afraid of wanting it. Honestly, I still am. 

But Baz is patient, and doesn’t mind me turning the lights off. 

I think hiding in the dark helps me pretend we aren't doing this. At least, the part of me that's still scared. 

**Baz**

Simon is fumbling with my buttons when I work up the nerve to suggest my idea. He reaches for the light switch, but I still his hand. 

“Simon,” I start. “Could we try something?”

**Simon**

When Baz tells me what he wants to do, I just blink at him, and I feel myself tense up. “You want to— you want us to— in front of a mirror?”

He nods uncertainly, and I can tell he’s worried about scaring me off. I take a deep breath and decide to hear him out. 

“Why?” 

**Baz**

I was afraid he’d ask me why. I don’t know what to tell him. That I think he’s hiding from himself when we fuck? That I’ve read about people feeling much more present when they watch themselves in a mirror during sex? I know he’s afraid of seeing himself. But maybe this will help. 

I tell him I think it will help him get more comfortable with sex. 

**Simon**

I agree to it, because maybe Baz is right and it will make things easier for me. 

We borrow a mirror on a stand from Penny’s room. We don’t tell her what it’s for, but the look she gives me tells me she has a pretty good idea. (She’s knows what we get up to now. She complained about the noise once, and I couldn’t even look at Baz for a week.)

And now we’re in my bed, naked, having sex. Except the lights are on, and we don’t have any blankets pulled up over us. I do have my eyes shut, though. 

Baz is straddling me, and I’ve pressed inside him. We do it this way sometimes, but not always. Sometimes I want him inside me so badly I could die. 

He’s straddling me, and kissing me, and rocking against me. It’s like he’s wrapped me up in so much care and love, and I could just cry. And he’s letting me keep my eyes closed. 

**Baz**

I slow my movements and draw back to press kisses to Simon’s eyelids. “Love, do you think you’re ready to look?” 

He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes to look at me. “I don’t know if I can.”

I cradle his face in my hands and just murmur loving nonsense to him. I’ve often wished I could heal him with the right magical words, the right spell made of love. It’s silly, and wishful thinking, but it doesn’t stop me from trying.

**Simon**

I’m ready to try, and I tell Baz that. He climbs off of me and pulls me up to sitting, on the edge of the bed. I’ve already closed my eyes. I don’t want to look at myself naked in the mirror just yet. Don’t want to see my face.

I let my wings stretch out behind me. Usually when we have sex I lay on top of them, or have Baz spell them away. I usually don’t want to think about them while we do this. 

Baz suggested I leave them, though. I didn’t have any reason to disagree. 

He climbs back onto me, seating himself on me again, and holds me to him. He kisses me as we get started again, moving together, and after a moment I forget to be anxious about this. I’m not thinking about much of anything at all. I’m just feeling. 

**Baz**

I can feel Simon relaxing into me. Or at least I can feel his tension start to change from anxiety to pleasure. He moans against my mouth. 

I pull away from his mouth. Guide his face to my shoulder so he can see when he’s ready to look. And I just go, whispering encouragement in his ear.

**Simon**

I feel like I’m starting to fall apart, and Baz is right there with me. His arms are around me, and I feel safe, and warm, and protected. 

Sometimes when we’re like this I have trouble letting go. Letting the pleasure pulse through me. Sometimes I have to get up and finish by myself in the loo. But Baz always puts his arms around me again when I come back. Like he doesn’t mind how broken I am. 

Sometimes when we’re like this I don’t feel broken at all. 

Right now I feel brave enough to look. 

I open my eyes and at first I’m not sure where to look. But then I catch the movement of Baz’s reflection thrusting down onto my reflection and I turn my eyes towards it. 

Oh. That’s my face. That’s my face, flushed with pleasure. I’m glad Baz suggested we do it like this. With him on my lap, facing me. I don’t know if I could handle both of us looking at my face while it’s like this. 

I watch the smooth planes of Baz’s back as he moves up and down on me, and I watch my face twist, my mouth tip open. 

Look at that. That’s me having sex. 

I lock eyes with my reflection and intend to keep my eyes open. I want to see my face when I come. It feels important. 

Suddenly I feel like I’m actually inside my body while we do this. Like every wave of pleasure is happening to me in a way it didn’t before. 

I can’t stop looking at my face. 

**Baz**

When we’re like this, I don’t mind doing all the work. With me on top, riding him. I want him to feel how much I want him. 

I think he’s looking in the mirror, and I resist the urge to turn and look. I don’t want to scare him away. But I hear him draw in a shaky breath and now he’s running his hands over my back. And he sounds different. Like his moans are bubbling out of him in a new way.

I imagine his face and feel a pang of jealousy that I’m not looking at it. And then I imagine his eyes on me in the mirror, watching himself fuck me, and it nearly puts me over the edge. 

But before it does, he clutches helplessly at my back, groaning in my ear.

**Simon**

I come before I mean to. I can’t help it. And I keep my eyes locked on my reflection, and almost giggle at how absurd everything is. My face. Sex. The sheets on my bed. My wings flexing behind me. Magic. Everything I’ve lost. 

Baz keeps moving on me, dragging my orgasm out of me, and then I am laughing. Love. Pleasure. Baz’s hips. The stupid look on my face.

**Baz**

I’m not done, but I can tell that Simon is spent, so I climb off of him. He falls languidly back on his elbows and looks at me apologetically. 

“I’m sorry, I— I wanted to last longer for you.” 

I climb up next to him on the bed, pushing him to his back and tucking myself under his arm. “It’s alright, love. You can make it up to me when you’ve caught your breath.”

He squeezes me with the arm around me and hums against my temple. 

  
  



End file.
